The Happy Life

by lonelyriver

Yuuri always knew he was a little... dense. When it comes to girls and an unfair engagement, he's bound to make a few mistakes, but somehow there has to be a happy ending. EVENTUAL Yuuri/Wolfram On semi-hiatus.

4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou or any of its characters.

Beta-ed by: G

Warnings: Overall there's language, references to minors having knowledge of sex (however, all instances of sex within take place between consenting individuals who are sixteen or older), sexual activity, heterosexual sex, homosexual sex, masturbation, novel spoilers, mixing of novel, manga and anime canon for my own benefit, blatant infidelity (I know, QQ), most likely some OOCness (Yuuri's kind of a dick), violence, joking references to mpreg, maybe some voyeurism, probably a few others that I can't think of off the top of my head.

Pairings(s): In this chapter we have graphic Yuuri/Elizabeth (I will not lie and say I'm sorry XD; ), references to one-sided Elizabeth/Wolfram (as well as past Yuuri/Hashimoto and Yuuri/Lady Flynn), blatant allusions to Gwendal/Anissina, minor Murata/random-shrine-maiden, and teeny, tiny little inklings of Yuuri/Wolfram.

Setting: A few days in the hot, hot summer of Yuuri's 22nd year.

Rating: M, most definitely.

A/N: Technically I am not off of my hiatus. XD; But I managed to get enough written to equal another part, so I figured there's no reason not to post it. Here we have a humorous beginning, and then Yuuri at his lowest (action-wise and emotion-wise).

As always, a huge, heartfelt "thank you" to all my readers! You guys are so awesome!

Also, I feel like I shouldn't have to say this, but apparently I do. This is not a story about Wolfram. This is also not a story about Wolfram getting revenge on Yuuri by hurting Yuuri the way Yuuri's hurt him. If he tried that they would honestly have no business being together, because that's just as petty as some of the things Yuuri's done. "Revenge" is not an excuse to cheat. Period. Wolfram is not going to turn around and have any sort of relationship with someone else just because of what Yuuri's done. That would make him no better than Yuuri. If you don't like reading about Yuuri messing up, and if you don't like Wolfram being hurt due to Yuuri's actions, not only do I not know what you're doing watching the series (because it's not like Yuuri's professing his undying love for Wolfram there), then I would suggest hitting the back button and not reading this fic.

---

The Happy Life

by Mikage

Part Four

Yuuri managed to (mostly) avoid Elizabeth for exactly two days, one hour, twenty-seven minutes, and six seconds.

As soon as he saw her, and as soon as he realized why she must be there (to seek revenge where Wolfram would not), he turned and ran into the castle in a manner not unlike Gwendal's many escapes from Anissina, leaving his baseball and glove behind with nothing more than a hissed "stall her" to his godfather.

Then he searched desperately for a place to hide.

His first stop was Anissina's lab, where Gwendal sat in a cushioned chair in front of one of her fans drinking a glass of some amber colored liquid with ice. This wasn't strange at all, as Yuuri had guessed it to be his Chief Adviser's intention when Gwendal had left him in his office. No, the strange part was that Anissina was actually there, and instead of cackling like a maniac and strapping Gwendal up to peculiar looking, potentially deadly devices of her own creation, she stood behind his chair with her hands on his shoulders, rubbing them as if giving him a massage.

Her head was positioned very close to Gwendal's the minute Yuuri burst in, and he thought she might have been doing something none-to-innocent involving her mouth and tongue to one of Gwendal's ears.

Gwendal jumped as the door crashed against the wall, and his face turned a color Yuuri was used to seeing on Wolfram when he teased him about sex. Anissina just straightened behind him with a boastful sort of smirk and kept her hands right where they were on his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Yuuri half-bellowed half-squealed.

"That is none of your concern!" Gwendal roared back.

"But… but you… you and her…" Yuuri tried to explain and found himself at a loss for words. He merely lifted a hand to point between the two of them.

"Is there a problem, Your Majesty?" Anissina asked, her smirk turning into a humorous grin. She leaned around to put her face very close to Gwendal's again.

Gwendal took a large gulp of his drink.

Yuuri gaped at them and wracked his brains for the real reason he was there. It didn't take him very long to remember, and when he did he pointed an accusing finger at his Chief Adviser.

"You didn't tell me Elizabeth was coming!"

Gwendal met his eyes with a look that was clearly unimpressed. "Is that an issue, Your Majesty?"

"Are you crazy? You knew she was coming and you didn't tell me?"

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I didn't think it was necessary."

Yuuri knew Gwendal was only pretending to be apologetic. His Chief Adviser looked like he was trying to restrain a satisfied smirk. He and Anissina looked really creepy with their smirking faces side-by-side like that. Yuuri actually took a step back.

"She's going to kill me!" he exclaimed.

"Killing you would be against the law."

"Then she's going to cut my balls off in my sleep!"

"Is that so?" Gwendal wondered, lifting his glass for another drink, causing the ice to slosh around and clink inside. He didn't sound as if he found the idea too terribly distressing.

"You did this on purpose!" Yuuri alleged.

"Pardon me?"

"You!" Yuuri said, pointing his finger at him again for emphasis. "You did this on purpose! You knew Elizabeth was coming to see Wolfram and you made sure I didn't know about it, because you're pissed that I'm a pig or a manwhore or whatever you think I am now, and you secretly hope she does something horrible to me to get back at me for all the stuff I've done to Wolfram!"

"What have you done to Wolfram?" Gwendal asked as if he had no idea, though it was obvious that he did.

"Shut up, okay? I know I'm a jackass! You don't need to do this to make a point!"

Gwendal let out a sigh that was forcibly exaggerated. Yuuri had always known that Gwendal could be terrifyingly vengeful to his enemies, but now he also realized his Chief Adviser could be a total ass to his friends.

"Why are you here, Your Majesty?"

"I want you to tell me where you hide when you're running from Anissina!" Yuuri said.

It seemed weird to say it when Gwendal and Anissina were positioned rather close to one another in the very same room, where Gwendal clearly wasn't hiding, but Yuuri was sure it would only get weirder the more he let himself think about it, so he cut off that train of thought right then and there.

"I hide in her bedchamber, Your Majesty," Gwendal replied smoothly. His face turned only slightly pink.

If Yuuri had looked away, he would have done a double take. Since he didn't, the only thing he could do was continue to gape.

"… what?"

"Her bedchamber, Your Majesty," Gwendal said again. "I hide in her bedchamber."

Yuuri sputtered as his brain began to supply him with perplexing images of what they must do in her bedchamber while Gwendal was "hiding" there. "I heard you the first time!" he screeched. Then, before he could think better of it and stop himself, he asked, "Why do you hide in her bedroom?"

Gwendal's face might have darkened in color, but the tone of his voice remained the same. "It is usually far easier to distract Anissina in her bedchamber than it is to do the same in her lab," he replied.

Some part of Yuuri thought this was all well and good; he'd once thought Gwendal should just get over it and have sex with Anissina anyway. Another part of him was scared and disturbed and suddenly wondered if he should start worrying about little baby Gwendals running around one day.

He could just imagine them brandishing paperwork at him with their chubby little fists, cackling just like Anissina was now.

Yuuri took a breath to straighten himself out and stand at his full height, squaring his shoulders and attempting to pull off looking down his nose. He kept his hand up and finger pointing at his Chief Adviser. He doubted he looked intimidating at all, as he'd never had much practice at it outside of transforming into some weird alternate personality that none of them even really understood.

"You just wait," he warned. "I'll get back at you one day. You just wait and see."

Then he stormed from the room before Gwendal could respond.

---

Yuuri's next stop was a room few people would expect him to venture to on his own, and for that it seemed the perfect spot to set up camp and wait out Elizabeth's visit.

He burst into the library just as he'd burst into Anissina's lab, sending the double doors crashing against the walls. Luckily, there was no frightening sight of another clandestine relationship to meet his eyes this time, as the only two people to be making use of the room at this time of day were Gunter and Gisela. They sat at one of the tables with a pitcher and glasses of iced tea between them, which they seemed to be using as a substitute for the usual hot afternoon tea. Both of them jumped up from their chairs when Yuuri entered—Gunter to fret about and Gisela to stand at attention.

"Your Majesty!" Gunter exclaimed.

"Gunter!" Yuuri responded.

"Your Majesty," Gisela greeted him with a tiny bow.

For the first time in the seven years that he'd known her, Yuuri thought about how he'd never seen Gisela curtsy.

He realized he was getting distracted again and shook the thoughts from his head before they could become any more distinct.

"Hi," he said, somehow sounding calmer than he truly felt.

"Your Majesty," Gunter began, "I'm afraid your lessons won't resume until tomorrow morning, unless, of course, you find yourself much too anxious to wait, in which case I'm sure I can think of something we've not yet covered."

"No!" Yuuri shouted—perhaps a bit too quickly, because Gunter instantly deflated. "I mean… no, that's not why I came here, but I'm sure it'd be very interesting, it's just that I-"

"As a matter of fact, just today I was fortunate enough to come by an intriguing study from the College of Theology in Rochfort, by a Mr.-"

"Actually," Yuuri announced, talking over him loud enough to successfully cut Gunter off, "I was just looking for a place to hide."

Gunter momentarily stopped talking to blink at him. "Why should you feel the need to hide, Your Majesty?" he asked. He moved closer to peer behind Yuuri but could not seem to find a reason for his distress. "Has Anissina been eyeing you?"

"No," Yuuri said, remembering the scene that had greeted him in her lab. He shivered. "No, Anissina seems pretty occupied right now."

"Has she captured Gwendal then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you could say that."

"Perhaps I should attempt to aid his escape," Gunter suggested.

"Er… no," Yuuri told him. "I don't really think he wants to escape this time."

"Oh my," Gunter observed. "Has she sedated him?"

"Uhhh, no, actually. They're sort of together."

"Well, of course they are, Your Majesty. Gwendal and Anissina have been friends since childhood, but if Anissina has been experimenting on him again, then I do think it would be best to put a stop to it."

"Yeah, but, see, I don't think her experiments are… er… all that bad… I mean… today, at least."

"Father," Gisela broke in. She looked between the two of them with a patient smile. "Perhaps we should allow His Majesty to explain what he really finds the need to hide from, since it appears Lord von Voltaire is not currently in eminent danger."

"Oh, yes," Gunter said, glancing from his adopted daughter back to Yuuri. "Yes, Your Majesty, please do tell us what seems to be the problem."

"Huh?"

Side-tracked by the conversation, it took a moment for Yuuri to remember what he was doing there and why. When he did, he couldn't believe he'd forgotten and told himself he wouldn't allow himself to become distracted again.

This was a matter of life and death, after all.

"Oh, yeah! Elizabeth's here!" he announced.

Gunter blinked at him again. "Why would you feel the need to hide from Lady Elizabeth?"

"Because she's going to kill me!"

"Your Majesty, forgive me, but I fail to see what reason, if any, Lady Elizabeth would have for committing regicide, which, I will remind you, was outlawed and classified as high treason by the king and council of aristocrats at the time of the Great One's-"

"Well, then she's going to do something really terrible to me, and Gwendal's in on it, and Wolfram either thinks she's completely innocent or that I'll deserve whatever she does, because neither of them bothered to tell me about it and now she's here and she looked at me with that sweet smile that really means she's going to torture me!"

Gunter almost looked like he was about to dive right in to another lecture, but just as he opened his mouth to do so he seemed to pause to consider Yuuri's statement. "Oh," he said. "Oh my. Whatever could you have done to cause her to look at you that way?"

"She's probably pissed that I cheated on Wolfram," Yuuri carelessly supplied.

There was a moment of silence in which Gunter's face took on a look of confusion.

"But, Your Majesty, you haven't cheated on Wolfram," he said.

"Gunter, what are you talking about? Of course, I did. With Hashimoto and Lady Flynn!"

"H-Hashi…?"

"Hashimoto," Yuuri repeated. "She was my girlfriend on Earth."

"And… L-Lady Flynn…?"

Gisela looked between the two of them again and allowed her patient smile to slip into a worried frown. "Father, perhaps this conversation would be better left-"

"Yeah," Yuuri said. He hardly even noticed that Gisela was trying to stall the spread of this news. "Lady Flynn and I had sex."

Silence again. Gunter looked pale-faced and flabbergasted.

Gisela developed a weird sort of tick in her brow.

"Oh…" Yuuri said, realization dawning on him a bit too late—but, honestly, when was that anything new? "You… you didn't know."

"Y-You…" Gunter stuttered. "You… and… oh my…"

"No, Your Majesty," Gisela answered for him. "He didn't know."

And with that, Gunter slithered back into his chair in a faint.

Gisela moved to check on him, positioning him to be a bit more comfortable while using some of her magic in something of a calming effect. When she was done, she turned back to Yuuri with one of her tiny "I'm going to be nice but on the inside I'm thinking horrible things" smiles.

"Lord von Voltaire and Lord Weller thought it would be best to give Father a little more time to come to terms with the fact that you're… well, that you're growing up and experiencing the world as a man would," she explained.

"O-Oh," Yuuri said with a wince, looking at Gunter guiltily before switching his gaze back to Gisela. "But you knew?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. I've known from the beginning."

"But how?"

"I saw to Lord Wolfram's injuries after your fight," Gisela replied.

"So, wait, he talks to you, too?"

"Of course. Lord Wolfram and I have known one another since we were children."

Yuuri figured this made sense. Gunter and Lady Celi had apparently known one another for a long time, and even if he didn't know exactly when Gunter adopted Gisela, it seemed likely that she and Wolfram would have done a little growing up together. Added to that the fact that they'd both received instruction in healing from Julia, Yuuri supposed they'd had plenty of opportunities in which to develop some sort of a socially appropriate camaraderie between them.

"As for your current dilemma," Gisela continued, and Yuuri was once again brought back to the point of his coming here, "I assume you chose the library because it would normally be unlikely for you to visit unless you found yourself coerced."

"Right," he nodded.

"Doesn't it seem plausible to you that, if Lady Elizabeth does intend to find you, this would be the first place she'd look?"

"Uhhh, no. Why?"

"Oh, it's just that if I were looking for someone who was hiding from me, I'd start with the least likely place," Gisela explained.

"Since that would be the first place they'd think was safe," another voice said from behind Yuuri.

It was a sweet sounding young lady's voice, and it sent visible chills up Yuuri's spine.

He froze in place and stared at Gisela with his eyes so wide they actually hurt. She just smiled at him, and even though it looked like her normal smile, Yuuri thought it also looked very sinister. He was pretty sure Gisela would never do anything to cause him physical harm, but that didn't mean she'd try too terribly hard to stop other people from doing so if she happened to think he deserved it.

It was funny (actually, it really wasn't that funny at all) how everyone alternatively remembered and forgot that he was the king (and should therefore be respected utterly) whenever it suited their purposes.

Turning around was almost painful, but he did it all the same. Elizabeth stood there with her sweet-but-not-so-sweet smile on her face—almost like Gisela's except for the teeny, tiny little fact that Elizabeth had attacked him before where Gisela had not (and likely never would). If Yuuri wasn't so concerned about what Elizabeth intended to do to him, he might have thought that she looked exceptionally pretty, not too different than the last time he'd seen her six years ago, and she'd been pretty enough then.

Yuuri didn't know whether to be relieved or even more worried when he saw that Wolfram was with her. His brain was providing him with two different outcomes to this scenario. In the first, Wolfram did his duty as an honor-bound knight and fiancé of the king and defended Yuuri against Elizabeth's sudden and vicious attack. In the second, Wolfram stood back with an innocent sort of look on his face and pretended as if he had no idea what was going on (just as Wolfram had been pretending not to notice a lot of things recently) while Elizabeth sought revenge for him.

When Yuuri saw Wolfram sporting an expression of surprise and confusion, he panicked and reached for him as a drowning man would reach for a life preserver.

"Wolfram!" he exclaimed, forcing his mouth into a wide grin and approaching his fiancé to grab Wolfram's face between his hands. "Baby! Sweetheart! Angel face!"

The lower half of Wolfram's face was scrunched up and puckered due to the placement of Yuuri's hands, but the "kindly remove your hands from my person" look in his eyes was enough for Yuuri to know that Wolfram didn't appreciate the sudden fake sweetness dripping from Yuuri's voice.

"It's so good to see you out of bed!" Yuuri continued anyway. He figured the longer he kept it going, the less of a chance Elizabeth would have to butt in—and if he was lucky (though that seemed highly unlikely) then Elizabeth would believe his act where Wolfram did not. "You should try to sit outside later once the sun's set and it's not as hot out. You could probably use some fresh air."

Wolfram's eyes narrowed some more.

Yuuri laughed nervously. "Listen, I've still got some work to do, but once I'm done we can take a walk in the gardens or something."

He finally released Wolfram's face and turned to look at Elizabeth—although he didn't really look at her; he focused on some point behind her shoulder instead, as if refusing to make eye contact would be enough to spare him from an ugly end.

"It's great to see you again Elizabeth," he lied. He was proud of himself for keeping his voice cheerful, though. "Wolfram's probably happy to have some extra company."

"I am capable of speaking for myself," Wolfram pointed out.

Yuuri laughed again. "Of course you are, honey."

"H-Honey?" Wolfram sputtered. He seemed suitably confused. "Yuuri, what in the world-"

"Wish I could stay and chat, but I've really got to get going," Yuuri rushed to cut him off. He grabbed Wolfram by the face again—to the sound of his fiancé mumbling quiet curses—and pressed at quick kiss to his forehead.

Wolfram stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. Yuuri stared back as if he had no idea what he was doing anymore.

He really didn't. He wished he did, but apparently that was asking too much of the universe.

What he did know was that Elizabeth was drawing ever closer. If he intended to elude her—since no one in the room seemed to believe his sweet and supportive act for a second—he needed to get out of there fast.

"See ya'!" he said, pushing Wolfram to the side and directly into Elizabeth's path so as to make his way around them and out the library doors.

He left his fiancé, Elizabeth, Gisela and an unconscious Gunter behind.

He had no idea where he was going to hide next.

---

One of the few perks of being king—aside from the wealth and the license to pretty much do whatever the hell he wanted—was that when Yuuri burst into the stables and demanded his horse be made ready for him at the top of his lungs, half a dozen or so stable hands immediately surged to action and prepared Ao for a ride in record time.

One of the many disadvantages of being king—aside from the fact that his life wasn't really his own and he never had any privacy—was that when he went riding in an effort to escape from the castle for a while, half a dozen or so soldiers and guards immediately jumped to attention and followed him so as to prevent another kidnapping (not that their presence had really been invaluable in doing so before).

It meant he could leave the castle fairly easily, and quite quickly, but it also meant he couldn't trust people not to tell certain other individuals where he was going. Swearing them to silence usually only worked for about as long as it took Gwendal to get his hands on them and intimidate them into talking with the power of his ruthless glower.

In the end, there were very few other places Yuuri could go to preserve his life and sanity save from throwing himself into one of the fountains and escaping to Earth, and while this option was severely tempting he also knew Elizabeth would only wait for him to come back.

And as he had work to do and absolutely no desire to abandon his people and his kingdom on account of his fear of one woman, Yuuri would naturally have to return.

With no other place to hide, he turned his sights on the Great One's Temple and rode toward it as if his very life depended on it, swearing the guards to a silence he didn't expect them to keep and ordering the shrine maidens to let no one else in—not Gwendal or Wolfram or Gisela or Lady Celi, and certainly not Elizabeth—for the duration of his stay.

Then Yuuri did what he did best and barged in on Murata mid-sexual escapade.

"Murata, I need your help!" was all he said to announce his arrival, though the doors slamming open should have been announcement enough. It was, after all, something of a signature move by this point.

In surprise that couldn't even appropriately be deemed surprise given that Murata could generally predict Yuuri's actions and tended to know what was going on in the kingdom long before Yuuri even had a clue, Yuuri's friend wrenched his suckling mouth away from the neck of one of the shrine maidens to settle upon Yuuri an expression of mild agitation. The fact that the shrine maiden wasn't even the same shrine maiden as last time was even less surprising than Yuuri's arrival. Yuuri had never known Murata to commit to an actual relationship. Murata claimed he was "enjoying his youth this time around." Yuuri thought it was merely a convenient excuse to be a prolific manwhore.

Some might call him jealous. Maybe he was. He did envy Murata the freedom to do whatever he wanted, because even though that privilege also extended to the king, Yuuri knew he would rarely ever take advantage of it if it meant hurting the people around him. He'd done that enough already. Murata, however, didn't seem to share that concern, probably because when people said they didn't care what he did, they meant it.

The same couldn't be said for Yuuri.

Unfortunately, his friend's patience seemed to be wearing thin. Murata's agitated looked appeared pretty genuine and he sighed as he reached for his glasses.

The shrine maiden looked rather embarrassed and marginally uncomfortable, releasing Murata to grab one of the sheets in order to conceal her nakedness. At any other time, Yuuri might have felt guilty and even a little embarrassed himself, because even though he sort of liked the sight of a naked woman (and she really was very pretty), he also tried not to make it a habit to barge in on one when he was unwelcome (his previous interruptions notwithstanding).

Murata got up in no more than his underwear—the Demon-Kingdom-nobility kind, which left absolutely nothing to the imagination and had slipped down in the back due to his fumbling with the shrine maiden and now revealed a small bit of his ass crack. Yuuri did a great job of not staring or feeling uncomfortable, but that was mainly because Murata had risen to confront him and even though Murata was scrawnier than him now, he still managed to have a good two inches on Yuuri in height.

Which frustrated him to no end, because it was only two damned inches and it wasn't like Yuuri was a total pushover anymore (just a little one) and something like that should have absolutely no bearing on strength or prowess or masculinity or whatever inane part of Yuuri's subconscious it effected, but it still brought back all the memories of warming the bench in junior high school and never really being good enough at anything, and then he just felt like a stupid, worthless kid and his inferiority complex was triggered to remind him of everything he'd ever done wrong.

He was such an ass. He was stupid and immature and a horrible king and a terrible friend and he should just walk back to the castle with his head hanging and his tail between his legs and let Elizabeth do her worst, because he'd deserve every moment of it.

For once, Murata seemed to agree. "Shibuya, this has seriously got to stop," he said. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

There was still some of his usual amusement there, but mostly he just looked annoyed and frustrated, like a man about to score who'd just been cock-blocked.

Constantly being cock-blocked by your best friend must put a huge strain on your patience after a while.

Yuuri might have been able to sympathize if he still weren't expecting a sudden, gruesome death at any moment.

"Sorry," he had the grace to at least apologize, "but I need help. Elizabeth-"

"Lady Elizabeth is here and you think she's going to kill you," Murata finished for him.

"Y-Your Eminence," the shrine maiden nervously interrupted. "I… if this is important… I can come back later…"

"No, no, there's no need," Murata told her with a wave of his hand that might have looked dismissive if it weren't obvious he really wanted to get back to her. "Shibuya will be gone in just a minute."

"But Murata-" Yuuri tried.

He was interrupted again.

"The thing you need to realize, Shibuya, is that Lady Elizabeth can't kill you. That's against the law. If she did, she'd be immediately arrested, thrown in the dungeon, potentially tortured for information just to make absolutely sure she really was working alone-"

"She can't be tortured," Yuuri corrected him. "Remember I signed that law outlawing the torture of women? And the Aristocrats want me to sign another one making it illegal to torture anyone within the nobility, but honestly I think we should just outlaw it altogeth-"

"Shibuya, focus," Murata said firmly.

Yuuri stopped, swallowed, and got his mind back on track. "Right, sorry."

Murata gave him a moment to see if he'd start rambling again, but when that didn't happen Murata consented to continue. "She'll be thrown in the dungeon, put on trial for high treason, and likely burned at the-"

"That's outlawed, too."

"Hanged, then."

"But even if she's punished for it, I'll still be dead," Yuuri pointed out, eyes wide with terror. "Come on, Murata, this is a serious threat to my safety here. She's already almost killed me once. You think she won't try it again now that she has a better reason?"

"I think she's smarter than that, yes," Murata answered with a nod.

"But she came to get revenge on me for what I did to Wolfram," Yuuri insisted.

"Or," Murata countered, "she's simply here to visit von Bielefeld. Weren't the two of them friends long before you even came into the picture?"

"Yeah, but-"

"So don't you think you could be overreacting?"

"No, she-"

"I think you're just projecting your guilt again," Murata told him. "You expect the worst because you think you deserve the worst."

"But, Murata-"

"Y-Your Eminence," the shrine maiden tried again. "If this is really too much trouble…"

"No, there's no need," Murata repeated. "Shibuya is leaving us now."

"What?" Yuuri gaped.

Murata grabbed him by the shoulder, turned him around with surprising strength, and ushered him back to the door.

"This is the part where you reflect on your actions and do some serious thinking," Murata said. "It's time for you to figure out what you're doing. I can't do that for you, and to be honest it gets a little tedious when you keep barging in like this. A man has needs, Shibuya. You can't expect me to just drop everything the minute you need more relationship advice."

"But… but this isn't about a relationship!" Yuuri exclaimed.

"Isn't it?" Murata wondered. "It's about you and von Bielefeld."

"It's about Elizabeth being pissed off and trying to kill me!"

"Again, Shibuya, totally illegal."

"Okay, fine! Then she'll hurt me!" Yuuri clamored on, gripping onto the doorframe to prevent Murata from shoving him through. "Come on, Murata, just tell me what to do!"

"I did. Go think about it. You need to figure out what's more important to you."

"My life is important to me!"

"What part of it?" Murata wondered. "The part where you follow my lead and have indiscriminate sex with a number of different women-"

"Hey, I've only ever had sex with two!"

"-or the part where you actually give a damn about how von Bielefeld feels, but you're too scared to actually think that it might mean more than you've been letting yourself believe?"

Yuuri stopped his struggling to stare at Murata in confusion. "What is that supposed to me-"

Unfortunately for him, Murata took the opportunity to shove him out of the room and slam the door in his face. A click resounded in the emptiness of the hallway to alert Yuuri to the fact that the door had just been securely locked.

"Murata!" Yuuri shouted, lifting a fist to pound on the door. "Come on, Murata! You can't just leave me out here!"

In-between his shouting and pounding, Yuuri heard the shrine maiden ask, "Are you sure it's advisable to do that, Your Eminence?"

Yuuri didn't hear Murata's response, but the giggling and moaning he heard a few seconds later was enough to clue him in, and he realized Murata really was just going to leave him there to deal with his own problems. Instead of helping, Murata intended to ignore him completely and get right back down to business.

A particularly loud and exaggerated moan being issued from the back of his traitorous friend's throat was enough to send Yuuri scampering down the hall.

This was turning out to be a disastrous day.

---

Yuuri knew the minute he stopped running that Elizabeth was bound to find him, no matter what obstacles he attempted to place in her way.

He passed his time in the Great One's Temple being ignored by Murata and taking up residence in one of the guest rooms the shrine maidens prepared for him out of pity. A few of them even offered the pleasure of their company, and though Yuuri might have actually considered it had the circumstances of his visit been less serious, he wasn't about to give Elizabeth the chance to barge in on him mid-indiscretion. She already had enough to hate him for without actually seeing it with her own eyes. He was honestly surprised she hadn't flambéed him the minute she stepped foot out of her carriage.

Plus, the thought of having sex with someone he barely even knew didn't appeal to him the way it seemed to appeal to Murata. Yuuri thanked them (awkwardly) for their generosity and then locked himself away to reflect on the last seven years.

Elizabeth came for him on the evening of his second day.

He knew it was her the moment he heard the knock on the door. It couldn't have been Murata, who would have made some obnoxious comment from the other side of the barrier, and even though it could have just as easily been one of the shrine maidens coming to check on him or bring him food, there was a certain finality to the noise that precluded that possibility.

Elizabeth had found him, and she had come for him, and he now had to choose between jumping out the window and hoping the fall didn't kill him or squaring his shoulders and facing her like a man.

He picked the latter only because he didn't expect he'd be able to run from her for much longer, and he valued his life too much to risk jumping.

He wondered if the shrine maidens had put him on one of the upper floors on purpose. It would be just his luck if they were in on this, too.

Taking a steadying breath, Yuuri straightened his back and lifted his head with a confidence he didn't really feel as he approached the door and swung it open before he could change his mind.

As he expected, Elizabeth stood on the other side, dressed in red and looking every bit as dangerous as he remembered. She had another small, sweet smile on her face, but her eyes sparked with annoyance and outrage, a clear indication that she did not appreciate being avoided when there were matters of great importance she wished to discuss with him.

If her intentions could even be labeled a "discussion." Yuuri thought "interrogation" or "torture" might be more apt.

"Your Majesty," she greeted him civilly enough.

Yuuri cleared his throat and did his best to keep his head up. "Elizabeth," he replied.

"Lady Elizabeth would be more appropriate."

"Right," Yuuri agreed, as he really had no other response to that. "Sorry…"

She looked over his shoulder into the room as if she expected him to move aside and permit her to enter. When he didn't, she locked eyes with him again and stared at him imperiously.

It was such a Wolfram-like expression that Yuuri felt momentarily uncomfortable. The two were so similar in so many different ways Yuuri wondered what it would have been like if Elizabeth and Wolfram actually had been married. Either they'd have the happiest relationship known to man, or the constant proximity would put them at each other's throats in an eternal struggle of wills.

Imagining that put more disturbing thoughts in his mind, and Yuuri forced them out before they could develop too clearly.

Now was not the time for that.

"Inviting me in would also be appropriate," Elizabeth said after they stood in silence for an uncomfortable minute.

Yuuri almost stepped aside. It wasn't polite to keep her in the hallway when there were comfortable seats just inside, but he also didn't want to make things too easy for her. No matter how much he thought he deserved whatever revenge she'd planned for him, he couldn't squash the instinct to stand his ground.

Maybe she had a right to be angry about Hashimoto (if she even knew about that), but Wolfram had told him he could be with women if he wanted to after that. He should have done a few things different with the incident involving Lady Flynn; he should have been more considerate and more discrete and tried to spare some of Wolfram's feelings, but was it really so wrong when Wolfram had said he could, when the engagement was barely even intact and they both operated under the assumption that it might not even last much longer?

Elizabeth didn't have to like it. She didn't have to understand it, or even like him if she didn't want to, but she had to learn to live with it.

If Wolfram could accept the idea, if he could get over his disappointment long enough to acknowledge what he and Yuuri had both always known, then Elizabeth could find some way to deal with it, too.

"I actually don't think that would be very appropriate," Yuuri replied. He tried to keep his voice level and stern instead of caving to his discomfort and mumbling the rest. For once, he managed to do an okay job of it.

Elizabeth appraised him with mild interest and quirked a brow in curiosity. "Why, Your Majesty," she said, feigning a tone of surprise, "do you not trust yourself alone with me?"

Yuuri gave a start and noticed the previously sweet smile on her face had turned almost seductive. He swallowed nervously but didn't fool himself into believing she meant it. She wouldn't, of course. How could she? If anything she was trying to bait him along, deriding his poor behavior by trying to make some sort of a point, trying to prove him weak and insatiable and incapable of restraining himself, like the mere sight of any pretty woman was enough to make his stray.

As if he would actually sleep with her of all people.

No, that would be crossing a line even he knew to stay well away from.

Or, at least, he thought he did.

Not wanting to answer the question or give her the satisfaction of thinking she'd gotten them better of him, Yuuri moved back to allow Elizabeth to take a few steps into the room. She closed the door behind her once she crossed through and looked at him as if she expected him to offer her a seat. He didn't. Letting her make herself comfortable would probably be a bad idea. Letting her in the room in general had probably been a bad idea, but he couldn't run from her for the rest of his life. The least he could do was keep her at the door.

That was safe, right? That was impersonal.

"What do you want?" he asked once he'd managed to clear an anxious lump from his throat.

"Oh, I think we both know the answer to that," she replied, smirking at him in a very Wolfram-like fashion.

Only he hadn't seen Wolfram smirk like that in a very, very long time.

Seeing it on Elizabeth's face… Yuuri realized he missed it.

"If this is about Lady Flynn," Yuuri began, seeing no reason to avoid the issue now that she had him cornered, "you don't have to go through the trouble of harping at me for it. Wolfram and I have already sorted things out."

"So it's true then?" Elizabeth wondered. She didn't look very surprised, but the resigned tone of her voice seemed to suggest that she hadn't been entirely certain of the truth behind the statement until now.

"Uhh, is what true?" Yuuri asked.

"It's true you had intimate relations with Lady Flynn of Caloria."

Yuuri didn't know why it seemed so hard for some people in this world to just say "sex" instead of coming up with various other terms for it. He didn't have very long to think about it, though, considering the rapid rate with which his surprise and confusion made itself known.

"Wait, you didn't know?"

"I'd heard rumors," Elizabeth explained. She didn't look any more agreeable than she had when she first arrived. Instead, the news gave her even more of a reason to look at him as if he were nothing more than a worthless sac of garbage.

Yuuri couldn't say he entirely disagreed.

"So…" he began again, "... so Wolfram didn't tell you?"

"Wolfram only tells me what he thinks I need to know," she answered.

"And he didn't think you needed to know that?"

"Did he think I needed to know about your engagement?" Elizabeth asked.

Her expression grew somewhat bitter as she said it. Her eyes narrowed, but not necessarily at Yuuri. She almost looked hurt by her lack of knowledge on the subject. Considering how much she seemed to care about Wolfram, and how passionate she'd been about marrying him before, Yuuri supposed it would only be natural for her to feel as if she were being left out of the important parts of her best friend's life.

Wolfram was such a private individual—moody and unpredictable and prone and closing himself off. It was hard enough being his fiancé.

It was probably just as difficult being his friend.

"Maybe he just… didn't want to worry you," Yuuri tried. He was startled to realize that he actually almost felt bad for Elizabeth.

When he actually thought about it, it wasn't really her fault. She'd been the recipient of an accidental proposal the same as Wolfram had, and like Wolfram she'd convinced herself that it would one day end in a wedding. She'd spent her entire life believing that. She'd spent her entire life loving Wolfram, until the rumors of Wolfram's engagement to him and circulated, and she'd come to challenge Yuuri for Wolfram's hand. In the end, she hadn't really stood a chance. Wolfram had never felt the same way about her, and whether she'd won the duel or not, Yuuri was pretty sure his position as king made his proposal to Wolfram (no matter how much of an accident it had been) more valid in a court of law than an engagement unintentionally established between two children.

He could pity her for it, though. He pitied Wolfram. Sometimes Yuuri wished Wolfram had as much grace as Elizabeth had shown when she'd given Wolfram up to him that day six years ago.

But even then, he wondered if he'd really be satisfied. He wasn't satisfied now, when Wolfram had all but given up.

"I think we also both know that preventing my worry was the least of his concerns when he elected not to tell me," Elizabeth said.

"Why are you here then?" Yuuri wondered. "I mean, if he didn't tell you then he obviously didn't ask you here to get revenge or whatever."

Elizabeth laughed as if she found the thought amusing. "And here I thought you knew him so well," she observed ironically. "If Wolfram wanted revenge, Your Majesty, he'd seek it himself."

"But he didn't tell me you were coming…"

"I imagine he didn't think my visit was important enough to distract you from your duties."

"But Gwendal knew and he didn't tell me either," Yuuri argued.

"Yes, well," Elizabeth allowed, "with Lord von Voltaire, I do imagine he hoped I might frighten you into submission."

Yuuri moved his gaze off to the side and shifted in place as he muttered, "Yeah, well he was right about that."

Another amused round of laughter met his ears.

She seemed peaceful and unthreatening enough for a young woman who'd previously threatened his life, but Yuuri wasn't about to lower his guard completely. She'd clearly come here for a reason. She'd even followed him to the Great One's Temple for this little chat. Now all he had to do was find out what her intention had really been, if it wasn't what he'd originally assumed.

"Why are you here then?" he asked again.

Elizabeth considered him with a serious stare. "Wolfram invited me," she said, letting her eyes sweep over him as if inspecting something unpleasant. "We haven't seen one another since the last time I visited the castle, and I suppose he wanted more company while he's been bedridden. He may be a relatively private person, Your Majesty, but even Wolfram is capable of feeling lonely. I imagine having a fiancé as faithless as you can be quite trying for someone of Wolfram's nature."

It was a purposeful dig and it stung. Yuuri flinched and failed to meet her eyes again.

"I gave him up to you," Elizabeth continued. She took a single threatening step forward, frown in place as her narrow eyes speared him with malice. "I gave him up to you and this is how you choose to behave?"

Yuuri had to force himself to look at her. "It's not really any of your business," he said.

There wasn't any heat in the comment. If he were to be honest with himself, he knew he'd been defeated the moment she stepped into the room. He could only satisfy himself with the thought that she hadn't been the one to defeat him. He'd done that easily enough himself.

As the saying went, he was his own worst enemy.

"It is my business," Elizabeth contended. "I gave him up to you."

"But I didn't ask you to do that," Yuuri pointed out. "I wanted to give him up to you. I thought I had. I thought you'd be better for him than I was."

"So you'd rather place the blame and the responsibility onto someone else instead of facing it yourself?" she observed.

"I'm not blaming anybody! I'm telling you I wanted you to have him!"

"You proposed to him."

"It was a mistake!" Yuuri insisted, nearly shouting in his frustration. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to slap him any more than he meant to slap you!"

She might have flinched slightly, but she plowed on as if his comment and no other effect on her. "You've let it drag on for seven years."

"Because Wolfram hasn't let me break it!"

"You know that's not the case, Your Majesty. You could have broken it without his consent, but you chose not to," Elizabeth pointed out.

"I didn't want to hurt his feelings!" Yuuri said.

"And you're not now?" she challenged, taking another step closer, seething at him as her bitterness and her anger grew. "This doesn't hurt his feelings at all?"

If Elizabeth weren't shorter than him, they would have been standing nose-to-nose. Instead, Elizabeth was forced to look up at him. Yuuri imagined it must frustrate her to do that. There was a confidence and a comfort level that came with height, he thought. It made it easy to face a challenge when you felt the odds were in your favor.

Not that he expected to be able to defeat her if this confrontation came to blows. He wasn't about to hit a girl if he could help it. Besides, she'd beaten him quite soundly the last time—could have killed him if Wolfram hadn't intervened and Yuuri's other half hadn't made an appearance.

Her eyes locked on him narrowly, burning with something that was almost like hate. Her breath fanned across his face, as hot as Wolfram's was in his anger, but Yuuri liked being cornered by Elizabeth much less.

He thought he knew how to handle Wolfram now—for the most part. Elizabeth was still very new and markedly unpredictable.

"You were right when you said Wolfram's capable of getting revenge himself," Yuuri told her, trying to steer her off the warpath without really knowing how. "So why don't you back off and let me and Wolfram deal with this ourselves? He doesn't need you to sort out his problems for him."

"No, you're right, of course," Elizabeth agreed as her frown became a sneer. "He needs you to sort out yours."

Yuuri's frustrations flared again. His fingers curled against his palms, forming his hands into fists he didn't dare make use of.

He knew better than that.

Then again, he'd known better than to do a lot of things, but that hadn't stopped him before.

"I can order you to leave," he said—the only threat he'd likely make.

"Yes, but you won't," Elizabeth countered, "because you know I'm right."

He said nothing in response to that, partly because he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of hearing him agree, but also because he didn't even know where the hell he was supposed to start when it came to sorting all this out.

Wolfram was depending on him to. A lot of people were depending on him to, but Wolfram most of all. Yuuri would be lying if he said he wasn't depending on it himself, yet the more he tried, the more he just couldn't do it. He didn't know what it was that was stopping him. He knew himself better than he had seven years ago, and he had a much better idea of what he wanted than he had when he'd been in high school, but the responsibility was still too much.

It was his responsibility and his alone. It had always been his. He knew that. From the moment he'd lost his temper and slapped Wolfram, this had been his problem to sort out and deal with. He could only blame Wolfram for so much of it. The rest lied squarely on his shoulders. It was up to him to figure out a solution, but after all this time he wasn't even capable of doing that.

Part of it was fear. He was afraid of what would become of them if he cast Wolfram off completely.

The rest of it was because he wanted so badly not to hurt Wolfram more than he had to.

They were friends. Yuuri didn't have to want him in order to care about him.

"I don't understand why you're not attracted to him," Elizabeth admitted, her accusing voice breaking through his thoughts. "It isn't as if Wolfram's not handsome."

Yuuri snorted and rolled his eyes. "'Handsome' isn't really the word I'd use there, but okay," he allowed.

"I'm not here to debate semantics with you, Your Majesty."

"Then why don't you go back to Wolfram and tell him what a dumbass I am?" Yuuri suggested. "Or better yet, why don't you go and try to marry him again? Oh, wait, sorry, I forgot he doesn't want you."

Elizabeth's glare darkened considerably at that. It seemed he'd left her speechless, which suited Yuuri just fine, even if he felt like a jerk for being mean and vindictive.

"How did you even get into the Temple?" he asked her in an attempt to divert the conversation. "I told the shrine maidens not to let anyone in."

"It seems as if His Eminence told them otherwise," Elizabeth tersely replied.

Yuuri's face fell into a very uncharacteristic scowl. "What the hell is the point of being king if no one listens to me when I want them to?" he snapped.

Maybe this wouldn't be so hard if the others would actually listen for once. So far all they'd really done was make this harder, except for Conrad who at least tried to understand, and Murata who usually ended up just making him feel even more confused.

How many different times had he told how many different people that he didn't want to marry Wolfram, and it took him having sex with a girl for them to finally get it? Honestly, what did he have to do to get through to some of these people?

"The point of you being king," Elizabeth said, "is to make sure your people are well taken care of and your kingdom prosperous."

"And I've done that!" Yuuri countered, making a grand sweeping gesture with one of his arms as if to motion to all of his accomplishments. "It's been seven years and we're at peace! The humans and the demons are getting along! I found the demon sword! I found the demon flute! I destroyed the forbidden boxes! I've made a shit ton of allies with countries you never even would have bothered to talk to otherwise, and the only thing you people seem to care about is the fact that I fucked up and had sex with my girlfriend and Lady Flynn!"

Something flashed in the darkening purple of Elizabeth's eyes. "Must you be crude?" she asked.

"This isn't crude!" Yuuri argued. If she weren't so close, he might have jabbed a finger in her direction. Instead, there was nothing for him to do but drop his hand back down and stand there looking down his nose at her, trying to make it look as impressive as when Wolfram did it.

By the look on her face, he figured he was probably failing.

"Crude would be if I went around making dirty jokes or humping people in public or staring at your tits instead of in your eyes!" he continued. "Just because I'm not as uptight as you and Wolfram are when it comes to sex doesn't mean I'm crude or vulgar or whatever other insult you feel like throwing at me because your delicate sensibilities have been challenged!"

"So you'll resort to harassing me, is that it?" she wondered, raising an imperious brow.

It was like facing Wolfram all over again.

Yuuri had thought he was done with that. He'd thought they'd moved passed that, and here Elizabeth was trying to start it all up again, unable to let things rest and mind her own business when he wasn't living up to her standards or some bogus set of expectations he'd already proven himself incapable of meeting.

"You're the one harassing me, Elizabeth!" he shouted. "You're the one who followed me here! All I wanted was for you to leave me the hell alone!"

"I can't do that," she said. She'd yet to raise her voice as loud as his, but she got her general sense of loathing across rather well either way.

"Oh, right, because you're all pissed off that I cheated on Wolfram," Yuuri returned, bitter and resentful and tired of all the accusations being piled on him like he had no right to be confused or upset or want something other than what people wanted for him—or for themselves, as the case may be. "Well, I'm sorry, okay? I've apologized for it plenty of times already. I know I'm an asshole. I don't need you of all people to tell me that. So why don't you leave me the hell alone and let me fuck up in peace?"

"If you would give him a chance…"

"And why should I do that? Who says I haven't given him a chance already?"

"Don't pretend as if you're innocent, Your Majesty. You've never given him the chance he deserves."

"Maybe because I already know I don't want him!"

"And how could you possibly know that?"

"Because I like women!" Yuuri exploded. A tiny little voice in the back of his mind actually cheered when Elizabeth flinched back. "I don't know why you and everyone else can't get that through your heads! It's not like I can just flip a magical switch in my dick or in my brain and suddenly have the hots for a guy!"

"But you've never even considered Wolfram as a viable option," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Because he's not one!"

"Perhaps if you would consider the idea instead of denying it outright…"

"I have, Elizabeth!"

"Have you?" she challenged him.

Yuuri's instinct was to give an immediate affirmative answer, but something made him stop as soon as he opened his mouth. He let his unspoken comment hang there for a few moments before clamping his mouth shut and glaring at his opponent.

She wasn't right. He didn't want her to be right, because then what did that say about him?

The truth was he hadn't ever tried to give Wolfram a chance. Of course, he never thought he'd had to. He'd known even before he'd started to have sex that he liked women. No, he hadn't been as interested as other guys his age until the time had actually come in his room that afternoon with Hashimoto, but he's still known it. He'd never had to question that part of himself. He liked girls. He thought they were pretty and attractive and he'd always wanted them to look at him as someone worthy of dating. His attractiveness toward members of the opposite sex was tied directly to his inferiority complex—along with a slew of other things, but he had to admit having a girlfriend and feeling as if he were actually desirable had helped ease that a little bit.

He'd never bothered to wonder if there might be another part of himself still left to question. He hadn't wanted there to be. That would just be one more complication and one more issue on top of a pile of complications and issues that made up his life now. He didn't have the time or the luxury to waste on that sort of crisis, so he focused on what he knew instead of on what he didn't know. He was a king. He had millions of people depending on him every single day. He couldn't let more problems and more confusion arise where there didn't need to be any, because he liked women and he was content with that.

But even he had to admit he wasn't satisfied. There were brief periods in which he thought he could be. Being with Hashimoto had been a relief. He hadn't needed to care about anything. He hadn't even needed to worry about the consequences until they were actually upon him. And Lady Flynn… he could have fooled himself into believing she was the one if he hadn't come to his senses as soon as he had.

Wolfram wasn't like that. Wolfram was far more real than any of the fantasies he'd had about Lady Flynn, and far more present than anything he'd had with Hashimoto. There was something so final about Wolfram, about an engagement and a wedding he wasn't even ready for. With everyone else he could take his time, he could be free and figure himself out and not have to worry about the inevitable outcome, because he didn't even know what the outcome would be.

"I don't want to talk about this with you," Yuuri mumbled when he couldn't bear to follow that train of thought any longer.

Murata had told him it was time to figure things out on his own, but Yuuri didn't know how he was supposed to do that.

It was just too much. For once in his life, for once in the last seven years, he just wanted something easy.

Elizabeth's frown had not eased. "I suspect you don't want to talk about this with anyone," she observed.

"It's not any of your business either way," Yuuri reminded her.

"It's my business as long as Wolfram's involved."

"He doesn't even want you messing around with this."

"If I don't he'll keep letting you do as you wish."

"Then maybe you should take a page from his book and butt the hell out!"

Her eyes appraised him again, sweeping up and down before returning to lock gazes with him. Her breath was still on his face, her body a little too close for comfort, the air between them a little too charged to be safe, but she was too proud to back away and he was too determined to fend her off.

"I don't understand what Wolfram sees in you," she said.

Yuuri almost flinched. He wanted to snap back, wanted to feign confidence and list all the things he'd ever suspected Wolfram appreciated in him other than the color of his eyes and hair, but the blow was too low and his self-esteem took a hit, and all the times he'd managed to feel good about himself went flying off as if they'd never even been there at all.

He was just a dumb kid, after all. He was just a moron pretending to be a king—a mediocre one at best, good enough to smile and laugh and work his unintentional charm on the world, but too stupid to really understand the sort of things he was getting himself into. The only thing he knew for sure was baseball, and that wasn't going to get him anywhere now, if it would have gotten him anywhere to begin with. He was good here because hardly anyone else knew how to play correctly. The competition was harder on Earth. He wasn't even confident enough to try out for the school team again. He'd played sandlot ball instead, with a bunch of other guys without the proper skill to make the cut anywhere else.

What did Wolfram see in him to keep him hanging on? What did anyone see in him? Hashimoto he could sort of understand, because she was a normal girl living a normal life, average in way he used to be and would likely never be again. But everyone else… what did he have to offer them? What could he provide them with that some other average schmuck couldn't?

Sure, he'd had some success. He could go through all of his accomplishments again, but he didn't know if he could feel pride in them now. So he'd found the demon sword. So he'd found some stupid recorder buried in some desert. So he'd bridged the gap between the humans and the demons and destroyed a couple of boxes along the way. Wasn't that simply because he'd gotten lucky? Because the Great One had orchestrated things that way? It was what he'd been born to do, wasn't it? So why should it be any great surprise that he'd actually done what the Great One had intended when he'd sent Conrad to deliver Julia's soul to Earth?

How did any of that make him strong and honorable?

How did any of that make him a good man?

"I didn't ask for any of this," he said in a voice that was little more than a whisper.

Elizabeth inched ever closer, as if she could somehow force him to come to terms with whatever it was she wanted from him with her nearness and proximity.

"Well, it's time to be a man and deal with it, Your Majesty," she replied.

She was hitting him too low. He wasn't even sure she knew the sort of affect her words were having on him, but Wolfram had always been good at cutting him down and making him feel miserable and inferior, so it only seemed appropriate for Elizabeth to be able to do the same. She was so much like him. There was no physical resemblance, but as soon as she opened her mouth, as soon as she spoke to him with that same derisive tone, his memories sent him back seven years to the moment he and Wolfram first met, Yuuri on his ass on the ground and Wolfram on the stairs looking down at him with the expression on his face that told Yuuri he would always be weak and worthless and pathetic.

First it upset him, trying so hard to be the sort of person he'd always wanted to be—the sort of man who was worth all the praise and admiration people gave him for doing the very thing he'd been born to do—but he could never quite make it. He could never reach far enough, because in the end the only thing he was good for was being the pawn of some long-dead king and a tool for a better world, a sacrifice for the sake of others without a care for what he needed or what he wanted.

Then it made him angry.

None of this was fair—not Elizabeth or Gwendal or Murata or Wolfram or the engagement or the myriad of expectations he was forced to face every day.

Maybe it was up to him to grin and bear it and face it, battle his way through it and come out on the other side a better man.

But sometimes he didn't want that. Sometimes he was tired of being His Majesty King Yuuri of the Great Demon Kingdom, the Great One's Chosen One and Vanquisher of all Evil.

Sometimes he just wanted to be Yuuri.

Just a normal twenty-two year old guy with normal twenty-two year old problems.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted, so quietly he wondered if Elizabeth even heard him.

She did. Of course she did.

"Making an effort would be a decent enough start," she replied.

Her voice was soft and low and she was staring into his eyes like she could make him see reason through her gaze alone, and she was too close and her breath was still too warm on his face, and he thought he could see something that wasn't anger or hatred or revulsion in her eyes, but a veiled sort of interest she'd since kept contained, like he was a specimen to be observed and studied before she made a firm conclusion, and Yuuri was so angry with her and with himself and with everything that he didn't care what it meant or what would happen next.

All he wanted was for something to be simple.

All he wanted was for something to go right without falling apart later.

All he wanted was a release from the stress and the misery, an escape from the responsibility and the obligations and the horrible weight he carried around on his shoulders every single day of every single month of every single year.

He didn't care if it made him weak. He didn't care if it made him irresponsible.

He was only human. He wasn't perfect or divine or special in any way other than the fact that some dead king thought he'd be useful.

If he wanted to be more than that, he wouldn't even know where to begin.

"Stay out of this," he said.

His life was already complicated enough without Elizabeth shoving her nose into it.

Her eyes lowered to his mouth as he spoke. Yuuri thought he saw something else flicker on her face, something like anger tempered into a different sort of fire, and that was when he alarm bells started going off in his head and his brain warned him that this would be a very good time to back away.

At some point between all the shouting and the insults being thrown back and forth between them, Elizabeth's breathing had changed.

This was not good, a voice in Yuuri's mind told him. This was not good at all.

"Make me," Elizabeth challenged him, low and quiet and much too sultry to be all rage and disgust, "Your Majesty."

And then their mouths mashed together with a suddenness that should have been shocking but instead felt like the natural conclusion to this heated confrontation. The kiss itself was messy and forceful in a way that Yuuri had never experienced before, more about passion and resentment than any sort of pleasure or skill. First it was lips and grasping hands and hot, panting breaths. Then it was lips and tongues and teeth, prodding fingers, commanding palms and uncontrolled moans.

He didn't know where it came from or how it was even possible that it had devolved into this, but Yuuri let it happen without a second thought.

He was tired of thinking. He'd made enough dumb mistakes already. What was the harm in fucking up yet again?

At least this time he wasn't the only culprit. Hashimoto and Lady Flynn had each bourn a kind of innocence in their encounters with him and the resulting detriment it had caused to his relationship with Wolfram. Elizabeth didn't have the luxury of that sort of distance. In this she was just as culpable as he was.

There was a part of Yuuri that liked that, that enjoyed the fact that he didn't bear all of the blame this time.

It made the experience all the more thrilling.

Elizabeth's hands were on his shirt, tearing at the fabric so the buttons strained and threatened to pop off, before Yuuri forced the first few buttons through their respective holes and pulled the garment over his head. She panted for air, stared at him with her lips parted and her eyes dark with fervor, different than her anger but just as powerful, while her hands grasped at naked skin and her palms explored his torso with enthusiastic greed.

They moved together, mouths joining to nip and suck and lick as Elizabeth stepped back and Yuuri stepped with her, until Elizabeth's back hit the door and they could go no further. Then Yuuri pressed himself against her, chest to hip to thigh, and Elizabeth moaned low and deep the way Hashimoto did when he stuck his hand down her panties, and Yuuri knew there wouldn't be any stopping this. It had been three years since his last night with Hashimoto and one year since his single night with Lady Flynn—too long with too many frustrations and not enough chances for release.

It had always been easier this way.

When he didn't have to think, when he could just move and feel and be and not worry about anything but rushing forward, it was always easier and less complicated than the commitment everyone else expected from him.

The encounter was quick once they hit the door. One of Elizabeth's hands unfastened Yuuri's pants and pushed his underwear out of the way. Yuuri did his part and lifted the skirt of Elizabeth's dress, shoved a hand beneath it to discover the warm, damp folds between her legs, familiar only because he'd done this with two others before her. He touched her there, through her undergarments first, rubbing firmly until her legs spread to encourage more. He tugged at the strings that tied her underwear in place, pulled one side free and sent the other sliding down her leg, while his fingers played and stroked and explored, pressing outside, delving inside, sending Elizabeth's head back against the door as she moaned and shifted her hips in time with the vigorous motions of his hand.

By the time one of Elizabeth's legs lifted to hook around his hip, and her hands against his back jerked him closer, Yuuri was too far gone to pay any attention to the warnings his brain was still trying to issue.

Their mouths reattached themselves to one another, tongues battling one another as Yuuri thrust up into her and swallowed the eager moan from the back of her throat. Pinned to the door she may have been, but Elizabeth retained her own sort of power. One hand curled around the back of his neck, the other shoved into his hair, grasping tight and holding him in place as they rocked together, hard and quick and over-zealous, with all of the spontaneity of Hashimoto and none of the reverence of Lady Flynn.

The room filled with sound—the slap of skin on skin, the rattling of the door with each violent thrust, the gaps of their labored breathing, the moaning and groaning and hums of pleasure.

"Your Majesty…" Elizabeth whined. "Your Majesty… Your Majesty… Your Majesty…"

He hated it. No one had ever called him that during sex before. It had always been his name, not his title. "Yes, Shibuya!" or "Oh, Yuuri!" or "Yuuri… Yuuri… Yuuri!"

That was all he ever wanted to hear.

In bed he wanted to be a normal man.

He didn't want to be a king.

Each time Elizabeth said it he thrust into her harder, his fingers pressed in a bruising grip against her thigh, like he intended to punish her for reminding him of what he was instead of letting him live in a make believe world where he was normal and this meant nothing. He thought she might have known. She looked at him like she knew, smirked at him like she was goading him on and kept saying it between the wanton moans each assault and plunge of his erection wrenched from inside of her.

She came with the words on her lips, tossing her head back as she stiffened and arched against him, hands still grasping and mouth still gaping as her eyes stared into nothing but what Yuuri imagined was white heat and exploding stars, because his vision was overtaken by the same only moments after. He thrust in deep one last time before coming with a moan that sounded like relief.

They panted together in the aftermath, pressed to one another with Yuuri's forehead against the door over her shoulder, and Elizabeth's mouth puffing warm breath into his ear.

He heard her swallow hard, felt her shake with the aftershocks their brisk coupling sent throughout her body, smelt soap and perfume and sweat and the musk of sex.

"I don't know what Wolfram sees in you," she said again when she finally found her voice.

Yuuri laughed sadly and shut his eyes.

All the anger was gone. The only thing left was a guilt he was already far too familiar with.

"I don't know either," he said.

---

He followed Elizabeth back to the castle.

She looked at him every once in a while, leveling him with frustrated frowns and disappointed glares the sex hadn't forced out of her, but she didn't speak as they rode side by side. Yuuri didn't try to make her. He was content to look forward and watch the castle loom closer, to pretend as if nothing had happened and nothing was different, as if he didn't feel a horrible sense of guilt bubbling away in his gut like corrosive acid.

They took the back way, avoiding the main road and the commotion Yuuri's presence always caused when he rode through the capital. Even without a large retinue accompanied with standards bearing his royal sigil, Yuuri's coloring was far too recognizable to go unnoticed. For now he preferred to avoid the crowds and move under the radar, his indiscretions with Elizabeth still too fresh in his mind. He wasn't in the mood for the rumors that would swirl the moment anyone saw them together, practically alone but for the dozen or so guards that rode with them—half of which had followed him to the Temple and half of which had escorted Elizabeth after him.

If he had it his way, this entire thing would be covered up or forgotten and never spoken of again, but of course that was impossible. He couldn't trust Elizabeth not to bring it up whenever she felt the need to goad him. He expected her to hold the momentary slip in control over his head for the rest of his miserable life, as if she hadn't had anything to do with it and it was entirely his fault. It wasn't, but that didn't make him feel any better about it now, and he wasn't the sort of person to use it against her. He was a jerk and a moron but he wasn't that cold and heartless. Elizabeth wasn't either. She was capable of warmth and love, but anger made her mean the same as it did Wolfram.

Thinking about Wolfram made the guilt burn away at his insides. Thinking about what Wolfram might say, what he might think when he found out, made breathing practically excruciating.

No matter what Yuuri did to try to slow their progress, the rumors would circulate eventually. There were already too many witnesses. Murata had watched them quite deliberately as they'd left. and some of the shrine maidens were bound to have heard them. None of them had said anything about it, but Yuuri wasn't stupid enough to think that Murata didn't know, that the shrine maidens didn't know and weren't whispering about it as soon as Yuuri was out of earshot. The regret was probably evident on his face, and Elizabeth made no effort to hide the mingling of irritation, aversion, and satisfaction.

Yuuri continued to keep his silence even when they arrived. He slid from his saddle and ignored Conrad's concern as his godfather came to greet him, merely handed Ao's reins to one of the stable hands and made his way inside.

Elizabeth trailed close behind but left him once they came to her room. Yuuri refused to look at her and didn't say a word as she disappeared behind her door.

Conrad walked beside him, calm and composed, but worried. He looked like he knew what had happened, though whether the rumors were already spreading or whether Conrad simply knew on instinct, Yuuri had no idea. He didn't much care to find out. Conrad's frown was sad, his eyes soft with concern and something like regret, as if he blamed himself for not guiding him better, for standing back and letting everything spiral so far out of control.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Conrad asked him quietly.

Yuuri shook his head as they came to the doors of the king's bedchamber. "No," he said. He couldn't help but notice how dull and numb his voice sounded. "I don't…"

Conrad's frown straightened out somewhat and his eyes grew slightly smaller, but he didn't argue. "Wolfram should be sleeping," he said instead. "He retired for bed shortly after dinner."

"Right," Yuuri acknowledged him. "Thanks."

He didn't know whether the comment was meant to relieve him or remind him of Wolfram's involvement.

And he was involved, much more deeply than before. Maybe Wolfram hadn't been physically present, but there'd still been a piece of him between Yuuri and Elizabeth. He was in Elizabeth's anger, in Yuuri's frustration, in the passionate energy that had overtaken the room.

A hand settled firmly onto his shoulder and squeezed it tightly, disrupting his thoughts.

"This will pass, Yuuri," Conrad reassured him.

He didn't know what Conrad was talking about—this thing with Elizabeth or his issues with Wolfram or his mistakes with other women or a little bit of everything—but he nodded as if he understood anyway and mumbled another soft "thanks" before quietly opening the door and entering his room.

It was dark inside but for the last of the fading light from the setting sun and the progressing glow of the rising moon. The windows were open to air out the too-warm room, the curtains fluttering in the evening breeze. It was calm and peaceful and quiet, and Yuuri took a deep breath as he leaned back against the door and closed his eyes to let the tranquility of it wash over him. He knew it was unlikely that it would last. It would all come tumbling down at any moment, as soon as he and Wolfram were forced to face one another again.

When he gained the courage to open his eyes, Yuuri saw Wolfram lying on the bed, evidently sleeping—just as Conrad had said. He was curled up on his side, one arm flung out and the other twisted awkwardly beneath him, with a sheet tangled around his legs. The rest of the blankets had been pushed toward the end of the bed, too thick and stifling to be used in the middle of this weather. Wolfram's pink nightgown had been retired for the season, replaced with various pajama sets that were all equally frilly but thinner and less modest in an attempt to keep him from overheating. Tonight he wore burgundy with pale green bows.

Yuuri stood by the door and watched him for a few moments, both to reassure himself that Wolfram really was asleep, but also to give himself some time to keep his distance and hold off on plowing head first into another set of dramatic disagreements. Wolfram looked… not innocent in sleep, though his lips were slightly parted and his cheeks looked rosy in the moonlight. Wolfram had never been a serene sleeper, and looked guarded even with his eyes closed and his breathing evened out. There was a tension to his body and a worried line between his eyes, like his life was nothing more than another hard-fought battle even in his dreams.

He watched as Wolfram shifted, head tossing along the pillow as one leg kicked out across the mattress. Yuuri waited until Wolfram had settled before finally moving further into the room, watching carefully for any sign that Wolfram might wake as he made his way to the washroom.

He felt no less tense even after he'd secluded himself inside. The guilt continued to tear away at him, turning his stomach around in uncomfortable knots that made him feel sick. He leaned over the basin of water acting as his sink, hands braced on either side of it as he swallowed and shut his eyes again, and tried and failed to pretend as if it would all be okay. He wished it would be, but he didn't see that there was any way Wolfram could possibly overlook this.

Running from it would be a fruitless effort. Yuuri knew that. The more he tried to forget about it, the more he tried to ignore flashes of lips and skin and hands, the more the memory made a space for itself in his mind.

This was so much worse than before. How was he supposed to try to justify it? What did he even have to say for himself?

"Oh, sorry, Wolf. Elizabeth pissed me off so I banged her in one of the rooms at the Great One's Temple" wasn't very likely to get a good reaction, nor would adding "but she sort of reminds me of you, so that's okay, right?"

It was so not okay. It was so far from okay he considered bashing his head against the wall until it was nothing more than a bloody mess, but that would hurt and fail to solve anything, except that he might be dead or otherwise unable to go around dragging other hapless victims into his fucked up love-life.

Only he wasn't even sure it could be called a "love-life" when there wasn't any love anywhere, except from the one person he seemed incapable of accepting it from.

He should bathe, he thought. He should wash away the remnants of his encounter with Elizabeth, but he didn't have the strength to leave the room again and drag himself down the hall toward his private bath. That would only increase his chances of running into Conrad again, or one of his other advisers, and Yuuri wasn't exactly in the mood to talk at the moment. Hiding away would be nice. Locking himself away from people might be what it took to prevent him from doing something stupid again, since he apparently couldn't trust himself to back away on his own.

He should have.

He knew he should have. He'd known it then and he knew it now.

So why hadn't he?

For lack of any other option, Yuuri made do with the water in the basin, rinsing his hands off and splashing water into his face, scrubbing it through his hair and down the back of his neck, where he could still feel the phantom touch of Elizabeth's hands. He unbuttoned his shirt and tore it off, tossed it aside haphazardly, washing as much of the dried sweat from his shoulders and chest as he could. His pants and underwear were last, dropping to the floor in a careless pile as he quickly washed between his legs.

He didn't let his hand linger long, and forced himself to think of things he felt were decidedly unsexy—like Gwendal knitting or Yozak dressed up like a princess—instead of Elizabeth's voice in his ear or her tongue in his mouth or the warmth between her legs or the curve of her breasts pressed against his chest.

He swallowed down as much of the self-loathing as he could and made himself leave the washroom when he was done, wandering naked into the bedroom in search of something to wear to bed.

Wolfram was awake. He was sitting up in bed with one leg dangling over the side, like he was just about to climb off and head to the washroom to check on him. He froze when Yuuri returned on his own, staring through the darkness and shadow. The moonlight cast Wolfram's pale skin in a silvery glow—incandescent, ethereal, and beautiful—the play of shadows on Wolfram's face making his eyes look especially large. There were sleep-lines on his cheek and his hair was mused, but he looked alert for just having been asleep only moments before.

Yuuri stopped on his way to the wardrobe in order to stare back at him. Years ago he might have been embarrassed to have Wolfram watching him so intently while he was in the process of walking around naked. Now the only discomfort he felt came from sickening remorse. He stood and frowned and wished things didn't have to be this way. He was tired of feeling trapped and tired of hurting Wolfram in the process of breaking free.

Of course, one couldn't happen without the other.

He watched the emotions play upon Wolfram's face—first the light flushing in his cheeks, the determination to keep his eyes at an appropriate level, then the concern, a brief flash of something that might have been fear, and then a sort of resignation, like he could read the truth in Yuuri's face and in his stance without either of them having to speak.

It didn't help that Yuuri couldn't seem to quell the guilt long enough to keep it off his face. It must be easy for Wolfram to see it, to draw his own conclusions from the length of his absence and the company he'd only just been a part of.

When Wolfram's mouth curved into glum frown, when his eyes lost their spark and darted away, and Wolfram pulled his leg back onto the bed to rest against the pillows and stare at the top of the canopy, Yuuri was sure he knew.

He didn't want the engagement, Yuuri reminded himself. He didn't want to get married and live whatever dream life Wolfram had been holding onto for the last seven years. He didn't to be shackled down when he didn't even fully know himself, when he barely even knew what he wanted from life, when there were still so many things he was trying to understand.

He wanted freedom, and Wolfram had given him that.

He wanted women, and Wolfram had said he could have them.

He wanted an answer, and Wolfram had given him the time to find it.

So why did Yuuri feel like crying?

He turned back to the wardrobe and took out a fresh pair of underwear and a set of pajamas. He dressed quickly—almost considered going without the pajamas due to the heat. At the last second, he decided to keep the pants but shucked the shirt.

Once dressed, Yuuri took cautious steps toward the bed. He kept his head down most of the way, dragging his feet across the floor and stopping when he came to one of the bedposts at the end of the bed. He fiddled with the tassel that kept the bed curtains open, studied the designs on the blanket neither of them would use until the temperature finally lowered, and then forced himself to look at Wolfram again—when all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball somewhere, maybe waste away there on his own.

His fiancé was still staring at the top of the canopy, but when Yuuri climbed up onto the bed Wolfram turned his head to look at him. His face was cast in the blank mask he'd learned to adopt since Hashimoto, smooth and emotionless. It was the eyes that gave him away. For a moment they burned with fury, sparked with bitterness, and gleamed with hurt and betrayal, but it was gone just as quickly.

It hurt to watch. Yuuri took a ragged breath and released it in a sob.

He settled heavily onto the bed next to Wolfram, on top of the sheet with his face buried into one of the pillows as his chest heaved and his shoulder shook involuntarily.

"I'm so… so sorry," he said. His voice was strained, rough in a throat that was much too tight.

Wolfram didn't move, but he didn't turn his eyes away from him either. "I've told you there's no need to apologize," he said.

His voice was too soft, not quite comforting but also not livid or accusatory.

"I didn't… I didn't mean for it to go this far," Yuuri tried anyway. "I… I don't know what happened."

"You were always interested in Elizabeth," Wolfram replied, too numb and too matter-of-fact.

His need to explain away and excuse Yuuri's behavior only made Yuuri feel worse, because Wolfram of all people should never have to do that. He should smack him again, or set another bed on fire, or turn away and walk out and break the engagement on his own so the world would know which one of them was the honorable one, and which one of them was the fraud.

"I-I'm not," Yuuri denied. "I wasn't… not like… not like this. It was never… I wasn't even… I didn't even think…"

"You don't need to find an excuse, Yuuri," Wolfram told him.

"You're the one making excuses," Yuuri alleged. "You're the one who just… who just lets me, and you don't say anything and you try to make it seem like it's okay."

"It is okay."

"It isn't," Yuuri insisted. "None of it is."

Even if Wolfram could convince himself that Hashimoto and Lady Flynn had been reasonable indiscretions, there was no way Yuuri was going to buy that this time when Elizabeth was Wolfram's best friend.

Best friends weren't supposed to sleep with one's fiancé, and one's fiancé wasn't supposed to sleep with one's best friend.

It was like Murata sleeping with Wolfram, only that would never happen because Yuuri was pretty sure Murata preferred women (at least in this life; he didn't even want to know about all the others). Even still, Yuuri didn't have to want Wolfram or the engagement to know that he'd be irrationally angry if something like that ever did happen.

So how could Wolfram be anything but absolutely disgusted?

"Why do you do this?" Yuuri asked. He turned his head to risk looking at Wolfram through watery eyes, only to find that Wolfram still hadn't looked away, but sat watching him like Yuuri's sudden emotional display confused him.

"Why do I do what?" Wolfram asked in return.

"Why do you let this happen? Why do you sit there like I haven't just done the worst thing imaginable?"

Wolfram's frown was sad. "Because I can think of worse things," he said.

Yuuri laughed a bitter, wet laugh. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Many things," Wolfram answered, shrugging. "Hateful things. Doing something like this and regretting it makes you a better person than if you simply didn't care. You're young and confused, and when I step back and look at all this objectively… I know that there's more to you than one or two mistakes. You're a good king. You're kind and fair. It's obvious how much you care about people. If you didn't, if you were cruel and shameless, or if you sat back and overlooked all the injustices in the world instead of fighting against them… then maybe I could look at you and hate you. All I've ever wanted is for you to be a good king."

"You should want more," Yuuri said.

"Sometimes I do," Wolfram admitted.

"Hate me then."

"It's not up to you to give me what I want, Yuuri."

"But I'm your fiancé," Yuuri argued.

"But it was an accident," Wolfram said. His eyes grew sad. His face fell as if conceding to the truth took the last of his strength. "It would be selfish of me to hold you to it after all the times you've tried to make me see the truth."

"I'm the one who's selfish," Yuuri replied.

"Did you do it to hurt me, Yuuri?" Wolfram asked. "Did you do it out of spite?"

Yuuri shook his head. The motion was partly obstructed by the pillow on one side. "It was never out of spite," he said.

And it wasn't. Yes, he had been bitter and angry at Wolfram for holding on so tightly, for holding him back when all he wanted to do was break free, but Hashimoto had been curiosity, then relief and pleasure, Lady Flynn had been a descent into fantasy, and Elizabeth had been frustration—with himself, with her, and with all the people who didn't understand.

But Wolfram understood. Somehow this prideful brat of a young man understood him like no one else did.

Either that, or he did a very good job of pretending to.

"I'm so tired of this, Wolf," Yuuri said, turning his face back into the pillow to soak up his tears.

"Of what?" Wolfram asked.

"Struggling…"

It had already become too painful. The further along the path he went, the more confused he became, the more he hated himself for not being good enough, for not being as sure as everyone else seemed to be.

Wolfram was quiet for a few seconds, then whispered, "… what can I do for you?"

He could have asked Wolfram for anything in that moment, and Yuuri was sure Wolfram would have done it. Wolfram would have given him all the time and space and patience and freedom that he needed. He would have let the engagement go, he would have taken another step back and loosened the reins even further and still stayed as Yuuri's friend.

But none of that would make Yuuri happy.

It hadn't yet. He feared it never would.

"I don't know…" he said, with another sob and a fresh wave of tears.

He didn't know anything.

TBC…

---

A/N: I have the next part planned out but don't know when I'll get around to writing it, so please don't expect a quick update! You've all been so patient and understanding, and I seriously appreciate it! Whenever I do get the next part done, you can expect a gradual change to Yuuri/Wolfram (perhaps even a kiss!), although I can't promise there won't be at least one more Yuuri/Elizabeth scene. OTL